Life sucked

Life sucked. I needed 28 grand to pay my father back. I’d gotten into a fight with a complete asshole at a bar and even though I’d only hit him twice, his orbital bone was broken and his jaw fractured. I had a good case for self defense but my father advised me to just pay his medical bills and not put my life in the hands of strangers with a jury trial since I was facing a felony. He fronted the money and now I had to pay him back. I firmly believe this guy got what he deserved, but if I had to do it over, I would have just subdued him, this whole fiasco just wasn’t worth it. As a result I went to work an oil job where “desolation” defines the landscape, “miserable” classifies the weather, “painful” comes close to describing the work, and “absent” accounts for the number of hot women. In other words, my personal hell. The only semi bright spot was a job I had working as a bouncer in a strip club that attracted some of the hottest strippers from Vegas, and the ugliest skanks from everywhere else (one lady chews tobacco) but as I noted in Part 1, I was fired with no reason given. My buddy Jack and I both were here for the same reasons: Money.

Getting fired

A couple weeks went by and my friend and I were trying to figure out where we went wrong. News traveled through the grapevine and basically it came down to this; whenever the general manager Darrel would get a beef with someone, he would accuse them of stealing and then boom, they were gone. Jack was accused of stealing as well and so that’s pretty much the long and short of why we were axed. Now, I admit to being morally flexible on some things but my friend was annoyingly rigid, we had known each other since we were 18 in Army basic training and were together all the way until we were Rangers. I know this guy and I know he wasn’t stealing. Moving on, I was bugging him to reach out to the owner, telling him to at least talk to him. “What’s he going to do? Fire you again?”. Finally Jack calls the owner and he invites us to watch a football game with him. We get there and he’s happy to see us. Says he’s been thinking a lot about my buddy leaving. See here’s the other thing, Jack has managed strip clubs before, he’s made a lot of money and done well while he was working, his first marriage fell apart and he didn’t want to be a GM. He just wanted to make his money and get out without the responsibility. The owner filled us in on everything: The GM Darrel,that had no prior experience, believed my friend was trying to take his job. So he claimed Jack was stealing and not doing his duties to get rid of him. Apparently the profitability of the club was going down as a result of mismanagement. Darrel was trying to save his job by placing blame and to get straight to the point, my buddy was re-hired as General Manager (which he accepted even though now he has to stay here much longer than he wanted) and “because I like you, you’re gonna be the assistant manager”. Yes that’s right, I was now the assistant manager of the big bad roadhouse. We were back on top! Especially me, I went from a few bouncing shifts topping out at 6-7k a month to where I should theoretically make over 10k. It’s ironic, a commenter in part one said “I’m surprised you can’t find paying work. Do you have your experience traveling to impoverished third world countries to seduce young women and sharing pornographic images (without their consent) on the internet listed on your resume?” I had this very conversation about my adventures with the owner and he wants to go to Asia with me when I return. So yes dick, in a manner of speaking I DID list that on my resume.

Back to work

My friend and I went straight to work, he put me behind the bar as a bar back and I started to learn how to bartend. Within a few weeks I was bartending by myself and feeling confident making various drinks. Luckily, the majority of these guys drink Bud Light or Jack Daniels and Coke.

The big obstacle was not banging strippers. That’s a big no no. If you bang a couple of these girls and they cause turmoil in the club, you’re ass is gone. I held out like a champion for one week and then ended up banging this hot 21 year old black girl in the office before she flew back home. That night I did an even bigger fuck up. I banged the gorgeous Asian waitress the owner was very much taken by. And I did it the same night he had taken her out on a date. Am I that big of a dumbass? Rhetorical question. But: Yes, yes I am. To be continued in The Roadhouse Chronicles part 3….

I’m Fisto, I like to think of myself as a modern day adventurer. I have a roving foot, a desire to write, and a bit of a drinking problem, so having a blog seemed like a natural progression. Cheers.

WearARubber

Yeah, it certainly was a dick comment. But, then I started thinking about it … you might be onto something. It was the people that set up businesses to serve the prospectors of previous booms (oil in Texas, gold in the Klondike) that endured. The vast majority of prospectors went broke. You’ve got an in-demand skill set. Why don’t you start a frac-man lifestyle business: a guided crash course in game, a trip to the Philippines or DR, and a hotseat tour. Shit, sign me up and I’m thousands of miles from North Dakota.

Chaos

This is a fucking cool story. Bigups.

Scotian

Boom town strip club stories bring back bad memories, good luck at the new gig Fisto. The thing I like best about working in the oil biz is that nothing you will read on the net about dudes traveling around the work and banging women will ever be as crazy and fucked up as the stories you’ll hear on a daily basis at work.

Tenerife

So, is it not possible to make six figures in six months in the oil sands as a newbie?

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